Weaponized
by Ta Paixao
Summary: The plot to bring about the end of days has failed. Society is fractured, populations dispersed. Whole cities stand in ruin. On every acre where life persists, factions gather for war. The revolution is upon us. A new age awaits.


_Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._

**A/N: **Behold, the first episode in my o/s series. I'm taking suggestions for song-inspired one-shots. If you'd like to see a song fic'd, leave me your pick in the reviews.

* * *

**WEAPONIZED**

A short story

Inspiration: "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons

**Beta: Hadley Hemingway  
**

**Song suggestion by Mina Rivera**

_The plot to bring about the end of days has failed. Society is fractured, populations dispersed. Whole cities stand in ruin. On every acre where life persists, factions gather for war. The revolution is upon us. A new age awaits._

* * *

- 10 -

I'm awake. The scent of conflagration is suffocating. Embers fall from my body in sheets of fine soot. Avalanches of tiny particles disperse as they are sloughed off my chest. I take in an urgent breath and taste the pollution. The air is tainted, poisoned.

I scan the blackness. Above, the stars are concealed behind a shield of clouds, toxic gasses trapped in the atmosphere. All around, rubble peeks out of the earth. This is a graveyard of cement, brick, and metal.

My fingertips find pavement beneath me. Brushing away the ash reveals hard, cracked ground. Double yellow lines cut diagonally through the impression of my body in the piled dust. This was a city, now the destroyed remnants of civilization.

Roaring engines cut through the silence. Vibrations from the pavement travel up my arms, telling me to run.

- 9 -

_"Run!" she shouts. "Run!"_

_Sprinting toward me, she carries a metal case. In the darkness, I can't see what pursues her, though I hear the engines and the pop of gunfire. But I wait. Crouched in the tall grass, I lay down cover fire to protect her getaway. The package is too important, and so is she._

_"Go," she yells. "Go. Go!"_

_Bullets pepper the ground around us as she runs past me. Emptying the clip on her trackers, I follow toward the waiting car. The engine turns over and we're kicking up dust. The case sits in her lap, undamaged. No headlights. We flee in shadow._

_Behind us, explosions erupt and flames burst toward the sky._

_"Jasper?" I ask._

_She shakes her head. I know he won't be the last._

- 8 -

The night covers my escape from the sounds of unknown arrivals. Chasing the distance, I follow the road away from the obliterated city. Crowded meters littered with destruction give way to open emptiness. A void, flat landscape surrounds me. I am small within the vastness of dark nothing. My soles pound the fractured terrain.

An opaque blockade rises out of the horizon. A misplaced mountain. The massive structure dwarfs the bare scenery. I stand at the base, surveying the territory. No indications of occupancy.

At my back, I sense the air contract, an inhalation. Dirt drifts up around my feet. A spout reaches down from the gaseous ceiling with a jagged finger to claw across the landscape. A powerful cyclone breathes venom from the atmosphere as it barrels near. I must take shelter.

Three damaged fences and a twisted maze of chain-link I traverse to reach the building. Gusting winds toss sand in my face. Two metal doors stand within the east wall, one bowed outward, as if warped by a concussive force from the inside. There is narrow gap where the door is bent in the lower corner.

Crouching, I tuck my fingers into the small cavity and pull. The metal creaks and groans, protesting my intrusion. The lock squeals then pops, cracking into pieces on the ground. As I pause at the threshold, I see the night overwhelmed by a howling, billowing monster of spinning demolition.

I slam the door shut. Scanning the immediate area, I search for something useful for barring the entry. Overturned metal chairs are scattered about the floor. I break off one leg and wedge it through the narrow gap, jamming the door shut. It won't hold against any use of force, but will suffice to keep the weather out.

My refuge is a prison. Abandoned, five levels of empty cells stand cold and silent. Canvassing the interior, my footsteps echo down hollow corridors. Signs of a riot mar every hall and open room, but I find no bodies. The pungent stench of rotting food permeates the stainless steel kitchen.

I flick light switches and breakers with no result. The infirmary is intact. Inside, I find sufficient supplies to run a rudimentary test. The package survives, but not for long. Already my skin shows symptoms of deterioration. I sweat byproduct, runoff. Made strong, but for the steady weakening. From the chemicals present, I produce a stabilizing agent, a thumb to plug the levee breach, and ingest the solution.

After investigating the full layout of my accommodations, I choose a cell.

- 7 -

_"It will be beautiful," she says, staring up at the full moon. "Green grass. Blue water. Air so clear you can see for miles in every direction."_

_"We won't see it," I remind her. "None of us will live that long."_

_"It's enough to know that someday they'll come back. And we'll have left the world a better place."_

_"While we trade one desolate rock for another."_

_Hanging in the night sky, the moon is shining wonder. Upon closer inspection, the surface is less inviting. Unfit to sustain life, and yet we insist that it does._

_"It's a revolution," she states. "Sacrifices must be made." Her fingers splay over my chest as she tucks herself under my arm._

_"Anything for you." I press the remote and the illusion vanishes from above our bed._

- 6 -

Eight years ago, humanity established the first colony on the moon. Nations sent scientists, engineers, explorers, the great minds of our time. They were to build a functioning outpost from which missions to Mars and the deeper reaches of our galaxy would launch. During this time, we hoped the data collected from the colony would provide insight for solving the urgent troubles of Earth.

For eight years, my colleagues and I analyzed the results of experiments conducted on the moon's surface. Our world was dying. Slow enough that the process was not so obvious, but faster than we realized. While the colony thrived, life on Earth diminished.

Temperatures spiked, burning off lakes and melting the ice caps at an alarming rate. Forests died. Soil lay barren. The cracked, arid land gave way to earthquakes that precipitated massive tsunamis. Warmer oceans brought on hurricanes that obliterated whole island nations and decimated coastlines. All manner of natural disaster ravaged every corner of the planet.

And then we turned on each other.

The scarcity of energy resources, food and potable water, instigated a global crisis. Armies waged wars for rice paddies and rivers, oil reserves and wind farms. Treaties were broken as allies betrayed one another. What nature had not killed, man destroyed, until governments toppled and societies disbanded into chaos.

It was during the last throes of civilization that the plot was formed. Not out of malice, but desperation. One last measure of preservation. A final gesture of hope.

The plan was simple, elegant. We sent a communication to the lunar colony, explaining our decision to the generations that would follow. Not a justification, but a promise into posterity.

But we failed. Our task was incomplete, thus our purpose unfulfilled.

For two days, I remain secluded in my solitary confinement. I have yet to see daylight. Outside the window on the highest floor, the violent dust storm sweeps across the barren wasteland. It persists, never weakening.

Tomorrow I must enter the black blizzard to see my pledge kept.

- 5 -

_Hurrying to salvage what we can, we pull hard drives and pack away instruments. Nearly a decade's research exists as a few terabytes of data. I place twelve vials into the slotted interior of a metal case._

_The plot to bring about the end of days has failed. Society is fractured, populations dispersed. Whole cities stand in ruin. On every acre where life persists, factions gather for war. The revolution is upon us. A new age awaits._

_She hovers over the monitor, watching a blue bar slowly inch across the screen. Above our heads, the ceiling trembles. The facility has been overrun. In minutes, Red Jackets will storm the lab. The human race is a dying breed. Those who survived the viral epidemic have forsaken their humanity. Small gangs band together to take what can be pillaged, eeking out a meager existence in the wild._

_"Leave it," she orders. Our colleagues rush about the room, gathering too much superfluous material. "Only the Helios project matters. Forget the rest of it."_

_As she swipes the thumb drive from the computer and the last case is filled, the lab doors burst open. Two blinding flashes precede plumes of smoke that creep across the floor from hissing canisters._

_I grab her wrist, tucking her under my arm as we dart toward the exit. Gunfire chases us out. The six of us run down the long corridor. Behind us, the intruders break through airtight security doors faster then we can seal them._

_A bullet grazes my arm. Ahead, Alice collapses. We pause only long enough to gather what she carried, leaving the body._

_Outside, the van is waiting. We charge the vehicle, tossing our goods inside before climbing in._

_I hear the bullet penetrate her skull. Bone cracks and the sound shatters my foundation. A moment of shock overwhelms her face, frozen in her eyes as her fingers slip from mine and the accelerating vehicle drops her lifeless body to the pavement._

_There are four of us when we join the others at the safe house. The future is irrelevant to me now._

_"So," he asks, pulling a vial from the slotted case, "who wants to volunteer?"_

_"I'll do it."_

- 4 -

There isn't time to indulge the storm. Though sand and dust spray the windows and darkness still prevails under the steadfast clouds, I must depart to complete my mission. Our gambit relies on a precise schedule.

Hunting through the prison facility, I scavenge what there is for my venture. Torn pieces of cloth I tie over my head and face. A riot mask to protect my eyes and body armor for my chest. In an administrative office I locate three sets of keys. One must fit my purpose. Finally, I gather anything red to disguise my identity.

I estimate my location at 12 kilometers outside Topeka, Kansas. From here, I will travel south. Before the Red Jackets obliterated the city, trapping me in the midst of the destruction, I was en route to Wolf Creek Generating Station, a nuclear power plant. There, the last gasp of humanity will be expelled, a simultaneous expulsion in concert with the last of us who will offer our full measure of devotion.

In the motor depot, I fuel the bus and start the engine. Red placards pried from walls are affixed to the side panels of the vehicle. I wedge my fabricated red flag into the grill. Should I encounter others, the camouflage will allow me to slip through unnoticed.

Donning my armor, I pull open the sliding bay doors. Sand and dust gush through the opening, pelting me as billions of tiny spears. The wind shoves me away. I climb into the driver's seat, sealing the door. Through the hostile wild I will travel nearly 100 kilometers to the end of all things.

Deep space exploration carries with it numerous hazards, not the least of which is prolonged exposure to radiation. Three decades before the colony mission left our atmosphere, scientists began experimenting with several methods to neutralize this risk.

One discarded theory was that injecting a stable dosage of radioactive isotopes into a living host would counteract the symptoms of exposure, essentially rendering the host immune. All attempts on living organisms failed. Injected directly into the bone marrow, the isotopes caused massive cellular deterioration.

The crux of the problem lie in the necessity to equalize the radiation outside of the body with the counter agent inside. It was an equation that could neither be predicted nor achieved.

My colleagues and I saw the failed research as an opportunity to complete our task.

- 3 -

_The agony is electric. Every cell bursts into invisible flame. I writhe on the table, struggling against my restraints. While fluids are siphoned from my body, foreign material is fed in through long needles attached to thin tubes. By pints I become less human. I am a weapon of mass destruction._

_The hot light above me fades. My muscles succumb to debilitating pain. In the aether between unconsciousness and waking, I see her vision of expansive, thriving beauty. Cool water pours down mountain streams where animals drink from the trickling pools. Birds migrate over green meadows. I inhale the unsullied air that carries scents of healthy forests. And her eyes, they smile as she lies in my arms._

_Then she is cold and growing smaller on the pavement stretching out behind me._

- 2 -

When we introduced the virus into the population, it spread as the models predicated. Within days it infected the continent, the globe in weeks. A clean solution, it would extinguish the human plight and the devastation we wrought. In time, Earth would recover, reclaimed by nature to heal. The natural order restored.

We did not account for mutation. Genetic resiliency proved too much to overcome. Millions perished, but some survived. Our vision for the future would not come to fruition until all human life was eradicated. A network of the willing took up a common goal: To cleanse the planet by obliterating the last vestiges of humanity's existence.

Twenty-four carriers at 24 sites, all to set off a chain reaction to usher in the new age.

- 1 -

I feel the material coursing through my veins. It is anxious for release. Excited energy vibrates through my bones. My skin is hot to the touch. Every molecule of my being is alight with anticipation as I race toward the apocalypse.

The journey is dark and treacherous. Roads are impossible to navigate under meters of shifting sand. My senses are alert, muscles taut, as I steer the prison bus across inhospitable terrain. Within my lifetime, these lands were fertile, yielding harvests that fed a nation. Now the soil is wasted life.

Gusts shove the broad side of the vehicle. I cannot see more than 10 meters ahead, but the path is vacant. I encounter none that dare brave the storm. Three hours pass in thunderous isolation.

Arriving at the outer perimeter of the Wolf Creek compound, I accelerate to mow down fences and crash through barricades. My destination sits on the nearest shore of the dry lakebed.

Days we spent memorizing layouts and startup procedures while coordinating with our colleagues overseas. We agreed to a precise order, a strict schedule. I have not a minute to spare if I am to keep my appointment.

Circling the compound to the west entrance, I cast my eyes upward through the filth-covered windshield. Light penetrates the thick canopy of clouds. Rays of yellow and orange strike down upon the earth in brilliant shafts. The sun does survive. I look upon its blinding fire, a fusion reaction that gives life as it destroys, for but a moment before abandoning the vehicle to force my way inside the facility.

The map ingrained in my mind directs me through corridors until I come upon the terminal I seek. My instructions are simple: Issue a series of commands then go for a walk.

It is not necessary that future generations understand our motives. Without witnessing the slow decay that permeated every semblance of life of this planet, it is impossible to comprehend what could prompt 200 scientists to abandon society.

But, let it be clear, we have not forsaken mankind. It is for the children of a distant generation that we bring about this demise. A cleansing must occur and humanity is unfit to perform such a ritual. Thus we remove ourselves from the equation so that nature might take its course.

One day, when the balance has been restored, it is our hope that the off-world colonists might return to claim their birthright. And, perhaps, this time man will respect the fragile harmony of our blue sphere.

I close my eyes to find hers beckoning me inside. The reaction is instantaneous. The package infused throughout my body greets my environment with a burst of relief. Twenty-four fusion reactions explode across the globe. I stand in the nucleus of wondrous birth.

- 0 -


End file.
